When Inclusion Doesn’t Include Everyone: The Struggles of Neurodivergent Individuals
It is the era of diversity and inclusion. Businesses dedicate entire teams to DEI. Entrepreneurs and influencers preach DEI every week on LinkedIn. But does this inclusivity extend to neurodivergent folks?
Until recently, I thought it did. Then I started paying attention. I looked beyond the “inclusive” and “helpful” LinkedIn posts. And what I found shocked me.
I decided to ask around. Had people been discriminated against because of harmless and common ND traits? Again, the responses I got left me speechless.
There’s no denying that there is a positive trend of more acceptance and awareness. But the journey is still long. Here’s what I found.
It all started with a LinkedIn post
One of my resolutions for 2023 was to be more active on LinkedIn and to work on creating a brand. I wanted to play with sharing my thoughts and being more visible, two things that have always given me intense fear.
Off I went into the vast, diverse world of LinkedIn business owners, content creators, and influencers.
For the most part, it’s been a fun experience. But it has also opened my eyes to a still big problem — awareness and acceptance of neurodivergent people are far from great.
A few weeks ago, I witnessed a LinkedIn “guru” and successful business owner bashing someone who had DM’ed them with a pitch.
They complained this person had not made any small talk and instead had gone straight to business. (On a business platform, no less. The horror!)
If they’d left it there, this article wouldn’t exist. But they didn’t. They went on to comment how anyone who wants to be successful as a freelancer or business owner needs to make small talk and look you in the eyes when talking.
I finally took the courage to point out that what they were describing as rude or incapable of being a freelancer could be an autistic person.
Sure, I added, they could also be an aggressive salesperson who didn’t know how to do business. But there was a chance they could be autistic.
If that were the case, they could be amazing at what they do — if you look beyond them not knowing how to make conversations about the weather.
I didn’t want to shame them. My reply was far from that. I only wanted to bring awareness.
Were they impressed? Do you think they replied? That they were interested in learning more?
No, none of that. They just blocked me.
So much for diversity and inclusion there. But I was still hopeful. This was just one person — with about 50k followers and posts that always gathered the praise and approval of thousands of people — but still one person.
Neurodivergent in the workplace. A bumpy road.
My experience with that one person fueled my interest in knowing more. It turns out that awareness of neurodiversity is not great, for lack of a better word.
People are discriminated against, judged, shamed, and even lose promotions they worked hard for because their tone of voice isn’t great, or they’re not good at making eye contact. They can have the best performance work-wise. It all fades away because of something as harmless as a tone of voice.
I talked to several people from different professions who had at least one negative experience at work because they’re neurodivergent. Here are their stories.
Tone of voice vs results
Timothy, who is now the CEO of a company, had some serious bumps on his journey because of his ADHD. He told me,
I was denied a promotion because of my inability to make eye contact and have had colleagues dismiss my opinions because of my monotonous tone of voice.
Hannah, 29, had a similar experience. Unlike Timothy, she is autistic but struggles with the same problems when it comes to her tone of voice.
I lost count of how many times I was dismissed because of my monotone tone of voice. I work in tech, I’m a senior programmer, and yet, I’m almost never allowed to speak during meetings. If I try, they’ll interrupt me immediately.
Once, I was denied a promotion because apparently “I was never excited about the job”. They said it made it look like I had a poor performance. It didn’t matter that I always delivered stellar work. They wanted someone good and happy to be in the company. I was both. But my tone of voice never showed it, apparently.
At the time, her employer knew Hannah was autistic. She never asked for special treatment and made no demands. She even accepted working in an open-space office, even though it was exhausting, and still did a good job. None of that was enough.
Eventually, she moved to a different company, one that puts more emphasis on the quality of the work and not the tone of voice.
Accommodations against overstimulation make you a diva?
It is widely known neurodivergent people tend to get overstimulated and overwhelmed easily. It is one of the reasons why open-space offices are hard for many.
A simple solution to this issue is a separate office or at least a desk somewhere on the margin, and not right in the center. It seems such an easy and harmless request and yet, it turns out not every workplace is friendly with those making such requests.
Michelle, who now works as a global communications manager, faced discrimination and even bullying at her former job due to her ADHD.
When we were moving desks to a new area, I went to my boss and asked her that I be not be sat in the middle of three desks because I get easily distracted and need to focus. I’d prefer the desk by the window and not the middle or the one where people are walking by constantly (the hallway).
She called me a diva.
While, in the end, I got the desk I needed, to be called a diva for a simple request for accommodation was uncalled for and discriminatory.
The nightmare of verbal instructions
Asking for accommodations is often a problem for Michael, a freelance designer who is autistic and struggles with verbal instructions. His request is simple — he’d like all his clients to submit their projects in writing.
While most are willing to accommodate him, some have reacted so badly that he ended up losing the projects.
I had this client. We had the first discovery call; we got along well. I told him I’d send him the form to write his instructions. He insisted on telling me during the call. I asked if I could record the call so that I could at least listen to it on repeat. He refused and seemed offended by my request. I tried to take notes, but I knew it wouldn’t work.
After the call, I emailed him and asked him again to write his instructions in my form. He refused and told me that if I was a good professional, I’d have listened to him speaking. I had to let go of that project, even though it was a fantastic opportunity.
Difficulty in processing verbal instructions is something many autistic people struggle with. And it doesn’t make them bad professionals. With the written instructions in hand, they can do magic.
Unfortunately, like the person I met on LinkedIn, who thought a good professional looks you in the eyes and makes small talk before getting to business, some think you’re good at what you do only if you process verbal instructions.
Teams and spontaneity
Another common trait among autistic people, and one I personally struggle with too, is that it is often hard to be spontaneous in group conversations. Sometimes, when there are too many people talking at once, it can get overwhelming fast.
You become unsure of expectations, when to talk or when to listen, and you just feel confused. But that doesn’t mean you don’t listen. Quite the opposite. You can take in every word and once the meeting is over, in the quiet of your space, you can come up with brilliant ideas.
Elisa, a 37-year-old data analyst who struggles with these exact issues, faced many problems at work over the years.
I was working at this big corporation where we had daily team meetings. We talked about what we had worked on and then the team leader would come up with different ideas and wanted feedback from us. Everyone launched to speak up their mind.
I froze. I heard them talking, and I knew I had things to say. But I couldn’t open my mouth to speak. If they asked me, I would give a quick answer and leave it at that. Then I went to my desk and within 30 minutes, I’d send my thoughts in the Slack channel.
After about a month, HR called me and told me I was not a good team player. I wasn’t involved enough, and I needed to make an effort or they might have to let me go. I tried, but then my anxiety got so bad I would get legit sick during these meetings. And no, I couldn’t be more spontaneous than that. I explained to them I was autistic, but they said that had nothing to do with it and I was using it as an excuse. I quit before they could fire me.
Awareness — Level 1. Misconceptions — Level 99.
If there’s one thing these stories show us, is that awareness of what neurodiversity looks like is as low as it gets.
Many of these situations could’ve been prevented if everyone had a better understanding of what an autistic or a person with ADHD looks like.
But, like the HR team at Elisa’s company, many believe autism is a person, usually a boy, who is nonverbal (or very close to that) and has real challenges in being independent.
Misconceptions abound, leaving many ND people to struggle.
The situation is not entirely hopeless
Among the people I talked to, there were some who had good experiences. And others who, after initially struggling, are now in a leadership position that they use to raise awareness.
One such example is Timothy, who faced many challenges because of what others perceived as a monotonous tone of voice. He told me,
These experiences have been difficult, but I have used them to become a better advocate for neurodivergent individuals in the workplace. I have worked to ensure that my team is aware of the challenges that neurodivergent individuals face and that they are treated with respect and understanding.
Then there are those who were lucky enough to have good experiences right from the start. Kim R. Livingston, author of Walks Like a Duck: How a Mom with ADHD Led Her Neurodiverse Family to Peace of Mind, is a 55-year-old woman with ADHD, who received her diagnosis about 20 years ago. She told me,
I’m lucky that I haven’t faced discrimination. I’m a veteran teacher with ADHD, and I feel that, like neurotypicals, I have certain strengths and weaknesses.
The strengths (connecting with students, understanding different types of brains, having fun in the classroom) push me forward, while the weaknesses (thinking quickly in meetings, remembering numbers and dates, filling out forms on time) create some minor problems.
I’ve been able to get help where I needed it, mostly from secretaries (e.g., reminders) and occasionally from administrators (e.g., deadline extensions) without disclosing my disability. My bosses never seemed to demand perfection in all areas. As long as there were strengths in the most important areas of the job (actually teaching), the weaknesses were tolerated.
Kim’s experience is a glimmer of hope. While her employers and colleagues didn’t know about her ADHD, they still saw her strengths and didn’t judge her for her weaknesses.
In the end, isn’t that part of diversity and inclusivity? Knowing that everyone has strengths and weaknesses, that not everyone walks and talks a certain way, and accepting everyone regardless?
After all, it’s business. If the job is done right, why do so many waste time judging others for their tone of voice or the area where they’d like to sit?
If you’re reading this as a neurodivergent person who faced discrimination, I hope you walk away knowing two things: you’re not alone, and there is hope.
And if you’re a neurotypical person, I hope you walk away with a little more understanding about what neurodiversity looks like and the ability and willingness to keep a more open mind.
